


shot me down from the live wire

by HearJessRoar



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, actually there's a whole lot of fluff for such an angsty subject clearly i don't know what i'm doing, it started so happy and then everything sucked i'm sorry, post-reveal eeeeeey, these sunshine babes refuse to stay down no matter what i do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-17 19:46:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5883307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HearJessRoar/pseuds/HearJessRoar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adrien's life was going so well.</p><p>Until it wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. deep in the haze of your love high

**Author's Note:**

> my first real foray into a fandom in years and i dive in headfirst with a fluff/angst/comedy multichap. sigh. seriously, it's been literal years since i've posted fic. be gentle.
> 
> shoutout to bravenbird and dogsarefuckingawesome on tumblr for being my screaming cheerleaders throughout this mess of a first chapter. they're still screaming at me if you want to join in on the fun; i'm crossposting this on tumblr under hearjessroar.
> 
> well. away we go then.

It wasn’t a secret around the school that only the most foolhardy of people would dare talk trash about Chat Noir in front of Marinette DuPain-Cheng.

She was small, and quiet, but her fury was the stuff of legends.

Unfortunately, the new student had not heard those legends before he transferred. So when he mentioned something in the hallway about not understanding why a hero such as Ladybug put up with a “useless, unlucky, wannabe hero like Chat Noir,” he probably hadn’t expected to see a tiny fist flail within an inch of his nose.

Marinette DuPain-Cheng was small, and quiet, and at that moment, it was taking all of Adrien Agreste’s strength to keep her from decking some random boy in the hallway. He gave the startled kid a strained smile, re-adjusting the grip of his arms around Marinette’s waist as she struggled to land a punch.

“She’s very protective of Chat Noir,” he explained, his shoes sliding forward on the floor with how hard Marinette was pulling away from him. The other boy looked terrified, (as he should be, Adrien thought to himself.) and ducked away from Marinette’s wild fists, scurrying down the hall as fast as he could.

Marinette whipped around, pushing herself up on Adrien’s shoulder to snarl, “Yeah, you better run!” at the poor kid’s retreating back.

Adrien snickered as he set her down. “You need to stop being so defensive of that mangy old tomcat. People will think you have a crush on him.” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Marinette gave him a wry look. “In his dreams.”

“Oh, I’ll bet. Every single one of them.” he winked. Marinette pushed at his face, looking irritated, but Adrien was pleased to see a blush staining her cheeks.

“You’re incorrigible,” she muttered, picking up her schoolbag from where she’d dropped it earlier and moving to stride down the hallway without him.

He caught up quickly, and reached out to grab her hand. She pulled it away smoothly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and looking at him while carefully seeming like she wasn’t. A pretty smirk graced her lips as Adrien pouted, grabbing for her hand again.

This time she let him, linking their fingers together as she pushed open the front doors. “Wanna come over for lunch?”

Adrien groaned miserably. “I want to, but I can’t. I have a meeting with my father.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose, leaning against the stone wall of the bottom step. “I can’t believe you have scheduled meetings with your own dad.”

He shrugged. Even though he knew she could do it herself, Adrien untangled their fingers to lift her onto the wide ledge. “Wait with me?”

She smiled softly. He didn’t need more of an answer than that.

When the Gorilla pulled up, he sighed. “Wish me luck, princess.”

Marinette giggled, grabbing on to the collar of his shirt as he tried to leave. Adrien turned, looking against the harsh glare of the sun behind her. She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “All the luck I can send you, chaton,” she promised.

He gave her a goofy grin, so unlike the practiced picture-perfect smiles that adorned the billboards of Paris. His Chat was showing, and Marinette adored it. She pushed him back gently. “Now go, you’ll be late.”

He pulled away from her, but there was nothing she could do to stop him from walking backwards to the limo, trying to keep her in his sight for as long as he could.

Marinette rolled her eyes as the car drove off. “Who would have guessed that Adrien Agreste, model and son of a fashion mogul, is an absolute lovesick dork?”

She’d aimed the question at Tikki in her purse, but it was Alya who answered as she came down the steps behind her. “I could’ve, and up until like two years ago, you were the lovesick dork, Mari.”

Marinette grinned a cheesy smile at her as she slid off the stone ledge. “I’m still a lovesick dork. I’m just better at hiding it than he is.”

“Oh please. I found you by following the trail of fluttering pink hearts you leave wherever you go.”

-

Adrien didn’t return after lunch. Marinette consequently drove Alya insane by alternatively chewing on her stylus and tapping it against the desk.

“Will you calm down?” She snapped, pulling the ruined stylus from Marinette’s fingers. They had a five minute break between classes, and Alya didn’t feel like wasting it by listening to her best friend lose her mind. “He probably had a last second shoot. You know how crazy his schedule gets this time of the year.”

Still, Marinette fretted.”I know, Alya, I’m sorry. But he hasn’t even texted me. I’m worried.”

Of course, she was mostly worried about his civilian identity being compromised, but she couldn’t tell Alya that.

Nino, on his way back from his locker, stopped by their desk to ask Alya something. His girlfriend cut him off by throwing her arms around his waist and burying her face in his stomach while still sitting in her chair.

“Tell me you know something to make her stop. Please. I’m begging you.”

Nino gave Marinette a questioning look as he patted Alya’s back. Marinette smiled sheepishly.

“Uh…Adrien didn’t come back after lunch,” she muttered, gesturing unnecessarily at the empty chair in front of her.

Nino made a face. “Sorry, girls. He hasn’t texted me, either.”

Alya huffed. “Oh, what good are you, anyway?” She asked, her teasing voice muffled by his shirt.

Their teacher called for attention and Nino broke away from Alya to resume his seat. A minute later, a folded note landed in front of Marinette.

Making sure no one was paying attention, she unfolded it quietly.

In Nino’s handwriting, it read, _“His phone’s probably just dead, Mari. You know how he is about charging it.”_

And while it was somewhat reassuring, Marinette still could not get over the pit of premonition sitting low in her gut.

Something was wrong. She could feel it.

-

Nearly midnight and she still hadn’t heard from him. The constant nibbling on every pencil she could reach was beginning to make her teeth sore, and it wasn’t making her feel any better. She played with the idea of showing up on his windowsill as Ladybug, just to make sure he was okay.

But Ladybug swinging across the city for no discernible reason was bound to attract all sorts of attention, especially if someone spotted her entering the room of a famous model. Oh god, the rumors that would start. Alya would lose her mind over it, and Marinette would have to try to convince her best friend that her boyfriend wasn’t cheating on her with one of the beloved superheroes of Paris.

Not an appealing consequence for a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Marinette sighed, throwing away another ruined pencil. She rubbed at her eyes tiredly.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Marinette. Plagg would have gotten a message to me if he wasn’t, you know that.”

She gave Tikki a half-hearted smile. “I know I know that. But I’m worried about him anyway.”

As if on cue, she heard the trapdoor open. She left it unlocked much of the time these days, and a part of her was glad he’d remembered. While Ladybug swinging into his room would not go unnoticed, Chat Noir’s costume gave him the advantage of stealth when he chose to use it. No one had seen him in all the time he’d using her room as a safe haven. Not bad, for the physical embodiment of bad luck, she thought.

Pushing herself away from her desk on the rolling wheels of her chair, Marinette felt relief wash over her as she watched him climb down her stairs.

“Evening, princess,”

“It’s hardly evening anymore, silly kitty,” she observed him carefully. Even with the black mask obscuring his features, she could tell Adrien looked tired. The slight hunch in his shoulders and the forceful way he grinned at her made her bite her lip. He must’ve caught her concern because he dropped the air of nonchalance.

In one quick stride, he had crossed the room and pulled her out of her chair. He practically collapsed against her, tucking his face into the place where her shoulder met her neck and winding his arms tightly around her waist.

Marinette ran a hand through his hair, letting the other rub slow circles against his back. “How very forward of you, chaton. Haven’t you heard, I’ve got a boyfriend these days.” she murmured, her voice a teasing lilt.

Adrien chuckled, “But princess, I hear that you’ve been out defending my honor against the naysayers in your school. What’s your fancy boyfriend got to say about that?” his breath was warm against her collarbone.

Marinette took a moment to wonder how long he planned to hold her like that; he was much taller than her and it couldn’t have been comfortable for his neck. She herself could feel the bell at his throat digging into her.

“I think he likes it.”

“I do. I really do,” he pulled away. “Even if you looked like you were going to kill that poor guy.”

“Haven’t decided yet,” Marinette muttered, tracing a thumb along the line of Chat Noir’s mask. “Where were you today?”

He avoided her eyes. “I told you, a meeting with my father-”

“Adrien.”

He huffed. Her Ladybug voice was something he couldn’t bear to disobey, and Marinette knew it. He stalled by releasing the transformation.

Marinette gave him a look that said she knew exactly what he was doing, but greeted Plagg anyway. “There’s fresh cheesebread downstairs if you’re quiet,” she said, patting Plagg on the head.

Plagg, who had taken an inexplicable liking to the girl, gave her an affectionate headbutt before flitting away. Marinette, who liked Plagg but did not entirely trust him to his own devices, gestured for Tikki to follow him.

“You ever feel like we’re their guardians instead of the other way around?”

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him, pointing at her chaise.

Adrien, who was nothing if not dramatic, flopped heavily onto it, facedown.

Marinette rolled her eyes and pushed him over so she could sit next to him. “What happened, Adrien? Did your father say something?”

“He said something alright.”

“Well?”

He leaned up onto his elbows to look at her. “Mari, I really don’t-”

“Look, I know your dad can be cold-”

“Mari, you don’t understand,”

“Then tell me so I _can_ understand, I mean, how bad could it have-”

“He said you were only dating me because of my connections to the fashion industry, okay?” Adrien dropped his head back down, reaching blindly for a throw pillow to press over his head. Their whispered argument had come to a very sudden halt as Marinette processed his words. “He basically accused you of being a ladder-climbing gold-digger.”

There was silence. Adrien didn’t dare come out from under the pillow. The thought that had been bothering him all day was eating away at him and before he could stop it, he heard himself quietly ask, “That’s…that’s not why you’re dating me, right?”

The pillow was ripped off his head and out of his hands. Adrien blinked up at her.

Marinette DuPain-Cheng was furious for the second time in one day.

But this fury was nothing like the passionate rage of earlier. No, this was a cold, tranquil anger. He could see it burning in her eyes. He nearly flinched when she opened her mouth, sure he was about to get the worst breakup speech of his life…

…when Marinette said, in the most deadpan voice Adrien had ever heard; 

“You’ve cat to be kitten me right meow. Are you feline okay, Adrien? That was a paw-sitively claw-ful yarn for your father to spin. Honestly, what was the purr-pose of that, just to make you feel like you’re only good fur your career? How catastrophic. I like you as a purr-son, silly.”

Adrien stared at her.

And kept staring.

Until Marinette got a little uncomfortable and started fidgeting.

He burst into muffled laughter, slapping a hand over his mouth so he wouldn’t wake her parents. “Those were terrible! I thought I taught you better!”

“Well, that’s the last time I try to cheer you up,” she grumbled, moving to shove him off the chaise. Adrien held his ground, still snickering.

“You used purr twice, even I’m not that bad!”

“Cat’s out of the bag; I’m no good at puns. But,” Marinette grinned, reaching over to fix his hair, and letting her palm rest feather-light against his cheek for a moment. “I’m pretty great at making you smile. Even when your dad’s been a jerk.” She brought her hand down to his shoulder, tracing shapes with her thumb. “So that’s where you were all day? Avoiding a confrontation with your gold-digging girlfriend?”

He winced. “I didn’t want to upset you.” He rolled over onto his back. Marinette’s hand dragged across his collarbone, settling at the hollow of his throat as he stared at her ceiling.

“He’s told me my whole life that I’m only good for modelling the clothes he makes, to stay silent as he parades me around like some sort of show poodle, that I’m a disappointment any time I want something for myself,” Marinette could see tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, but said nothing. “Hearing him disrespect you, listening to him try to devalue one of the few good things I’ve fought so hard to have in my life…Mari, I got so angry. I shouted at him. Screamed, really.” the first tear slipped down the side of his face.

“He threw me out.”


	2. lost in the cracks of the landslide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, here we go for round two
> 
> i think i've almost got my fanfic groove back. nice.
> 
> btw main title and chapter titles are all lyrics ripped from ryn weaver's "octahate" if you're interested.
> 
> sidenote; if it's not obvious, they're aged up in this fic. google says 18 is considered adulthood in france, so that's what they are.
> 
> buckle up, it gets bumpy after this one.
> 
> (it's four am pls let me know if i messed something up k thnx)

Marinette nearly choked. “What do you mean, he threw you out? Adrien!” she leaned over him, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “I’m not worth you losing your home!”

He grabbed her wrists, looking up at her with tears still eking down his face. “Yes, you are!” tugging gently on her arms, Adrien pulled her down to rest against him. “Mari, you’re my whole world, why don’t you understand that?” 

Marinette growled low in her throat, reaching up to flick his nose. “And why don’t you understand that you’re important, too? You can’t just go around, tossing yourself into danger and getting kicked out of your house for me.”

“Too late, already did it.”

She rolled her eyes, sitting up and scooting off the chaise. He suddenly felt alone, and very, very cold. Rolling on to his side, he watched her heave open the trapdoor out of her room.

“Where are you going?”

Marinette turned on her heel, looking at him like he was nuts. “Um, my boyfriend needs a place to stay for the foreseeable future? Where do you think I’m going, I’m gonna tell my parents.”

Adrien panicked.

“Mari, you can’t tell them I’m in your room, they’ll hate me forever!” He tripped off the chaise, stumbling towards her. Marinette caught him by the shirt, steadying him with an amused look on her face.

“Duh, silly cat. That’s why you’re going to sneak out off the roof and show up at the front door like you were never here in the first place. I’ll tell them you called me.”

He could feel the half-dried tear tracks on his face as he blinked at her. She pushed up onto her tiptoes, smiling sweetly at him before kissing his cheek. Marinette wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I’m still really mad at you.”

He slumped against her. “I know. But I’m not sorry.”

“I know,” letting him go, she tapped him on the nose. “Wait five minutes so I can find Plagg for you and tell my parents, then go downstairs and come up the side door.”

Adrien nodded silently. As she moved to break the loose hold he had on her hips, he swooped down suddenly, pressing his lips to hers. She smiled against him and kissed him back, much less urgently.

Pulling back, he rested his forehead against hers. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Always, chaton.”

-

 

Marinette couldn’t talk her parents out of getting out of bed to tend to Adrien. Usually, she’d be annoyed by them being so overbearing, but…

…well, maybe Adrien could use a bit of hovering by people who cared about him.

When he’d knocked, her father had practically sprinted to the door. Trailing behind him, Marinette watched as her papa engulfed her boyfriend in a hug. Slightly embarrassed, Sabine had intervened, scolding her husband for not letting the boy have a moment to breathe. Tom disagreed, insisting that the best cure for troubles was a good bear hug.

While her parents squabbled, Adrien met Marinette’s eyes pleadingly as she leaned against the kitchen counter. She cleared her throat. “Maman, I think I’ll fix up the couch for Adrien. We’ll probably stay up a bit, okay?”

Sabine nodded, tugging Tom back to their bedroom before he could tackle the boy again. Marinette took a moment to appreciate exactly how much her parents trusted her. Gesturing for Adrien to stay where he was, she climbed the stairs to her room, intent on gathering up her spare blankets.

Plagg zipped out from his hiding place in Adrien’s pocket and followed her, obnoxiously cuddling up to the sleeping Tikki on Marinette’s throw pillow.

He gave her a wounded look when she came back down, taking the pile out of her arms. “I’m banished to the couch?”

“My parents might love you, but they don’t love you enough to let you sleep in my room, kitty.”

“Not while they know about it, anyway,” he muttered, dumping the blankets over the back of the couch. Marinette turned red.

“Stop it, they’ll hear you,” she swatted him on the arm. “And that is _not_ how you make up a couch, Agreste.”

“There’s a special method to sleeping on a couch?”

“Watch and learn, handsome boy,” she disentangled a quilt from the mess and threw it around his shoulders.

“First, you turn your boyfriend into a blanket burrito,” she pulled both sides of the quilt tightly around him, effectively trapping his arms and leading him around to the front of the sofa.

“Then, and this part is very important, you get your own blanket, and wear it like a cape.” she demonstrated, making the comforter flare behind her theatrically as she settled it across her shoulders.

“After that, you pull your burrito boyfriend down with you into the nest of blankets he made because he’s a dope who doesn’t know how to sleep on a couch.” Holding him tightly, Marinette let herself tip backwards onto the cushions. They landed with a muffled _whoomf_ and Adrien laughed.

“Seems complicated.”

“The complicated part is rearranging yourself so your boyfriend’s elbow isn’t digging into your ribs, actually.”

Making a sheepish face, Adrien moved as best he could in his blanket cocoon as Marinette settled herself against the corner of the couch to support her back. She pulled him up a little, tucking his head under her chin.

“Last step; cuddle boyfriend to death.” She murmured, carding her fingers through his hair. Adrien practically purred. If he’d been suited up, Marinette was sure that he would have.

“Not a bad way to go.”

-

Marinette hadn’t meant to fall asleep there. But the couch was comfortable and Adrien was warm and _god_ was that blanket nest cozy. Propped up against the pillows and pinned beneath her snuggly boyfriend, Marinette would say it was a rather pleasant experience.

Waking up with the sun shining directly onto her face? Not so much.

She grumbled, hefting Adrien off her. He whined in his sleep, trying to pull her back as she slid out from under him. She stroked his hair away from his face and he quieted, latching on to the pillow she’d been using. She swallowed a giggle and crept away to her room before her parents woke up. She needed to get ready for the day; it was going to be a big one.

There was a knock on the trapdoor just as she finished tying her second pigtail. The door flipped open, revealing a still sleep-disheveled Adrien.

“Morning, chaton,” she chirped, feeling very awake. Adrien looked like he felt exactly the opposite as he came to stand behind her at her vanity. He rested his chin on top of her head.

“You left me,” he accused, sounding like a petulant child. Marinette rolled her eyes at him fondly, ducking out of his hold. She handed him a comb from the vanity.

“Can you survive without a toothbrush until we get your things? I won’t judge if you brush your teeth with your finger, you know.”

Adrien gave her the side eye as he dragged the comb through his hair. “Is that your nice way of telling me my morning breath is bad?”

“You could choke a horse,” Plagg replied cheerfully, popping up from behind Marinette. Tikki bopped him on the back of the head on her way to Marinette’s shoulder.

“You’re one to talk, you smell like feet.”

Plagg pouted as Adrien laughed, eyeing him in the mirror. “Not so much fun when it’s _your_ girlfriend calling you stinky, is it?”

He put the comb down. “Well, that’s about as good as it’s gonna get,” he said, pulling distastefully at his wrinkled t-shirt from the day before. Marinette swatted his hands away from the hem.

“Don’t worry. No one will see your walk of shame clothes but me.”

His brow furrowed. “But I thought we were going to get my stuff?”

Marinette grinned slyly. “We are.”

-

“ _We are_ , she says. _We are_ breaking and entering in my own house is what _we are_ doing, Mar-Ladybug.”

She shushed him. “Honestly, kitty. You break into my room all the time, how is this different?”

“Uh, it’s broad daylight, and I’m not the one wearing _very conspicuous polka dots?_ ”

She didn’t bother dignifying that with a reply, popping the sliding window’s lock with the Lucky Charm lockpick kit her yoyo had spit out.

As soon as they had the window shut again, they released the transformations. Plagg promised to sneak Tikki down to the kitchens with him so long as she didn’t complain about his cheese smell ever again, and left the two teenagers alone.

Like always, she gawked at the sheer size of his room. She felt that her house could fit neatly inside of it. It was something she’d never, ever get used to.

Well.

After today, she wouldn’t have to.

Marinette took a seat at his desk. “Need me to help?”

“Nah, I got it,” Adrien replied, ducking into what was probably a closet. She wouldn’t know, having only been there a handful of times. Adrien had never liked spending time with her at his house, preferring to go out into the city. Having seen exactly how empty and impersonal the mansion was, Marinette didn’t blame him.

He emerged carrying a pair of duffel bags, one brimming with obviously wadded up clothing. The other was empty. She took the full one from him with a look of disgust.

“Seriously? This is how you treat your designer clothes?” she tipped the bag out on the floor and sat down cross legged to fold them. Adrien shook his head.

“Glad I didn’t put underwear in there yet,” he muttered, heading towards his dresser to do just that. Marinette smirked.

“What, afraid I’ll see your Ladybug print boxers?”

“I know for a fact that you have a black bra with green pawprints all over it, so don’t start.”

“Thought you liked that bra,” she grumbled, folding a sweater with the fluidity of any store employee.

Soon, she had everything neatly packed. Or as neatly packed as a duffel bag would allow, anyway. She glanced over to see how far Adrien had gotten with the other bag.

He was sitting on the floor in front of his dresser, looking at something in his hands. Coming up behind him, she knelt and peered over his shoulder.

It was a picture frame. Simple and unadorned, it didn’t fit with the rest of the carefully curated decor of the Agreste mansion, not even the parts that Adrien had carved out for himself. The woman in the photo was smiling sweetly, a smile that Marinette recognized.

“You look like her,” she said, placing her hands comfortingly on Adrien’s shoulders. He leaned back against her and she let her arms slide around to hold him tightly.

“I wish she were here,” he whispered. “She wouldn’t have let him do this. He wouldn’t be like this in the first place if she weren’t gone.”

His eyes were dry, but Marinette could hear the strain in his voice. He packed the frame carefully in the bag, making sure to pad it with socks. She released him and he turned to look at her.

“She would have adored you.”

“If you’re anything like her, then I’m sure it would be mutual.”

She had leaned over to give him a kiss, but their tender moment was ruined by a small black kwami flying straight into the back of Marinette’s head. He bounced off, his mouth running a mile a minute as Tikki joined them at her own slower pace. Marinette rubbed the spot where he’d smacked into her, grimacing. Mercifully, he hadn’t sent her forehead crashing into Adrien’s.

“Plagg, no one can understand you,” Tikki scolded, pulling the other kwami back from in front of Adrien’s nose. “You’re not even speaking French, that’s ancient Sumerian.”

Plagg looked abashed. “Sorry,” he mumbled. In a much clearer voice (and not a dead language) he said, “We saw Nathalie in the hallway on the phone. I think your father’s coming home soon.”

Adrien gave her a look riddled with anxiety, standing up and offering her a hand. “I’m almost done,” he said, looking at the kwamis. “Did you two get to recharge enough?” They made affirmative noises and he turned on his heel to disappear into another room.

“I am _not_ brushing my teeth with my finger again,” he declared a minute later, toothbrush in one hand and deodorant in the other. “I refuse. _Refuse._ ” he shoved them both into the second bag. “Well, that should be everything.”

Marinette nodded, and was halfway to “Spots on!” when he said, “Oh no, wait, I forgot something,” and dove under his desk.

Marinette gave Plagg a questioning look, but the kwami just shrugged. Adrien sat back, his hair dusty. In his hands was a shoebox.

Popping the lid off, he emptied the contents into the bag. Marinette caught glimpses of photos, mostly her, but some of them with Nino and Alya. Something small missed the mark and rolled to the floor with a clatter. She picked it up.

“You kept this?” she murmured, turning the bracelet over in her hands. It was much too small for him to ever wear, and giving it to him in the spur of the moment had been the cause of panic for weeks. She’d been so sure he thought she was crazy, believing in good luck charms at her age.

Marinette had assumed he’d thrown it away, since he never mentioned it again. But here it was, four years later in the palm of her hand. She looked up to see that Adrien had a light dusting of pink across his cheeks.

“It was the second gift you ever gave me,” he mumbled, zipping the bag resolutely.

“Second?” her brows furrowed in confusion. “Wha-”

“I figured out that you made the scarf a few weeks later, Mari. You sign all of your pieces.”

She blinked. “You never said anything.”

Adrien smiled at her. “Well, neither did you, so I guess we’re even.” He heaved the bags over one shoulder. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

Marinette was about to reply when the cold voice rang out from behind her and froze her in her tracks.

_“What are you doing in my house?”_


End file.
